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A/N: Fun fact, I've had to use Narcan easily over a hundred times, and let me tell you. That shit is like magic. The first time I used it, I was alone, shaking like a leaf and near tears, but holy shit. Watching it work was so fucking cool. If you don't know anything about Naloxone, I'd highly suggest looking into it. Especially if you or anyone around you is using any kind of drugs.
Summary: Clyde finds you unresponsive after experimenting with harder drugs for the first time. He finds himself having to Narcan you and perform CPR.
Warning: Angst, Drug use, Drug overdose, CPR and rescue breaths, Brief mention of a needle, Overdose reversal, Whump.
This is Day 16 of my March of Pain writing challenge, where I post a whump piece inspired by a list of prompts every day.
Prompt: Overdose
WC: 578 Words
It was a little too quiet when Clyde came to.
The two of you had been up late partying and he'd passed out not long after you'd shut your eyes. It didn't feel like he'd gotten much sleep though.
His eyes swept across the room, landing on the red glow of the alarm clock accross the room.
3am on the dot.
Christ, he'd barely gotten two hours.
You'd both popped a handful of pills a few hours before. An assortment of unlabeled tablets that were cheap enough that he hadn't asked many questions. The effects had been immediate. You'd started nodding off and Clyde had managed to drag you to bed before you passed out.
He groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face and turned towards you.
The first thing he'd noticed was the soft rattling sound coming from your throat.
Your lips were blue.
You were breathing, but just barely.
"Shit." Clyde breathed, shaking you by the shoulders roughly. "Baby, wake up."
You were limp in his arms.
"C'mon." He muttered, dragging his knuckles over your sternum hard enough to bruise.
You didn't flinch.
"No, no, no" his eyes darted from your face to the door frantically before he decided to start shouting.
"Help!" He screamed, still trying to draw some kind of response from you "I need some help in here!"
Johnny burst into the room only moments later, looking panicked and sleep rumpled.
"What are you-" He started, but trailed off when he saw what was happening "Oh."
"She won't wake up!" Clyde was sure he was crying, but couldn't find it in him to care "I don't-"
"Narcan kit." Johnny's brain seemed to reboot and within a half second, he was sprinting back down the hall.
Clyde was glad that someone else was able to do the thinking.
You'd stopped breathing altogether by the time he came back and Clyde had started to give you CPR clumsily in his panic. He had to pause his efforts when Johnny tore back into the room, fumbling with his cellphone.
He was quick to tear open the Narcan kit as soon as it hit the matress beside him, shouting for Johnny to call 9-1-1.
He managed to snap the top off of the ampule, but his hands were shaking too badly to get the needle into it.
He knew how to use it. you all did. But knowing in theory, and actually having to use it on someone he loved were entirely different.
"I-" He sobbed, trying so hard to focus while Johnny rambled to the 9-1-1 operator, trying to give them a picture of what was going on. "I can't get it!"
"Fuck," He sucked in a breath and forced himself to focus, finally managing to draw up the lifesaving medication.
"C'mon, baby." Clyde muttered under his breath as he plunged the needle into your thigh, rubbing the skin hard after the spring pulled the needle into the syringe. "Come back to me."
"It's not working." He breathed shakily, going back to doing chest compresions and rescue breaths "Jesus, fuck. It isn't fucking working."
"Give her another one." Johnny called out instructions from the dispatcher on the other side of the line.
All Clyde could do was nod and try again to draw up a dose, hitting you in the arm this time.
It only took fifteen seconds for you to sit up suddenly, gasping for air like a switch had been flipped.
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